


On a Moonlit Night Insects are Drawn to the Light Too

by Selyann



Series: The Lunar Trilogy [1]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Drama, Dramedy, Dubious Consent, Fourth Wall, Ikkoku Keisei Arc, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selyann/pseuds/Selyann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a moonlit night, memories of the old days resurface. On a moonlit night, old comrades meet once more. So different and yet similar; is it the same moon they are gazing at?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Contains mild spoilers for the Ikkoku Keisei arc (chapters 386-399). So mild that they should not ruin the arc for you even if you're not familiar with it yet. The events supposedly take place somewhere between the pages of the arc's early chapters – you could say it's my rendition of what happened between the panels, of what Sorachi left unsaid. Naturally, this is just my wishful thinking. I am not Sorachi and never will be.
> 
> Asterisks indicate footnotes.

The streets of Yoshiwara Paradise were lively at night, that much was a given. If you were to descend to the underground district, you would be dazzled by the brilliant light of flamboyant _andon*_ and small yet bright paper lanterns hanging just outside the doors of the numerous shops. It was by night that the district came to life; and rightly so, for it was a red-light district. The streets were crowded with people – customers, meaning mostly men; however, women were not unheard of either – the majority of whom were of much questionable sobriety. Courtesans sought to appeal to them by winking seductively, moaning lines laced with a promise of unimaginable pleasure, revealing a bit more of their curvaceous bodies by slipping their kimonos off one shoulder ... Some acted even more boldly, clinging to the men and stroking their bodies lavishly in an attempt to lure them into choosing themselves and not some other courtesan.

That particular night the moon was shining brightly, its face no longer obscured by the massive ceiling due to the heroic deeds of the Saviour of Yoshiwara and his friends. With the death of Night King Housen a great number of things had begun to change. It was a slow and gradual process, but courtesans could already enjoy considerably more liberty than before – even if that still did not quite mean much, for they remained prostitutes all the same. This was, however, a voluntary decision and they were free to act however they wished. The new overlord cared little about their internal affairs, so neither did he intervene should one of them become pregnant nor did he impose any restrictions on them. The formerly omnipresent ominous aura had begun to dissipate, although the district was still under the Harusame’s rule.

Over the hubbub of the restless streets of Yoshiwara, gentle sounds produced by a shamisen were hardly audible, but soothing they were to the ears of those who were close enough to hear them. The melody was unhurried and pleasant to the ear, yet retaining a certain degree of sadness and evoking nostalgia. So enchanting it was that even the noise of bottles being crashed in some bars and people shouting in a drunken stupor were unable to disrupt its flow and end its beauty. It sounded almost otherworldly.

‘Gintoki, ya okay?’

The aforementioned Gintoki Sakata, known also under the nickname of Yoshiwara’s Saviour, sipped at his sake, all the while gazing into the distance while leaning against the balcony railing. ‘Yeah.’

‘Ya’ve been awfully quiet for a while, ya know? Ya coulda at least said somethin’ to Hinowa’s proposal,’ a blond-haired woman remarked, scrutinising him with her violet eyes.

The waxing moon was truly exquisite that night.

‘Tsukuyo, leave him be. I know you’re concerned about Gin-san but I think we both already know the answer,’ said a brunette of breathtaking beauty while strumming the shamisen with the plectrum held in her slender fingers without any interruption.

The blonde’s eyes grew wide and her face went completely red. ‘Wh— N – No, I’m not – Who’d be concerned ‘bout someone like ‘im!’ she ejaculated, suddenly most occupied with searching for something up her sleeve, and soon retrieving her favourite pipe and placing it between her lips.

‘Tsukuyo ...’ began Hinowa softly.

‘Eh?’

‘You’re smoking the wrong end of your kiseru.’

 

Gintoki left Hinowa’s quarters soon after finishing his drink and was now walking sluggishly down the busy streets of Yoshiwara Paradise. His head throbbed painfully and he cursed under his breath. He was feeling out of sorts for some reason – perhaps it was low blood sugar, for he could not remember having anything sweet earlier that day.

Rice with azuki and strawberry milk did not count, they were staple food.

Maybe it was the disappointment and shock upon learning Suzuran had one foot in the grave. Maybe he had not come back from Tsukiji yet**.

It could have also been both.

Not knowing the cause of his suffering, Gintoki kept moving his feet idly, unsure of where he wanted to go. However, after a few minutes he stopped – not heeding the displeased glances thrown in his direction by some passers-by – and looked up at the moon again. It would be a full moon in a day, two at most. Therefore, the weather conditions were likely to be favourable, which was a good thing if they intended to search for the man of the legendary courtesan’s promise. He had sworn to personally drag the individual down to Yoshiwara and let the Death God Courtesan deal with him if he did not appear before Suzuran’s death.

As he picked his nose, Gintoki decided to resume walking. The streets were still noisy and ever so crowded, but he did not particularly mind. At some point he started wondering if he should go back home. For a while it lingered in his mind that Kagura had to be worried, however he discarded the thought upon suddenly remembering that the red-haired alien girl was not quite cute enough to worry about him like that. In all honesty she was probably insulting him while talking to Sadaharu by now, or emptying his poor fridge, or watching television. As such, he had no reason to worry about her either. It would be fine if he stayed in Yoshiwara for a bit longer.

Suddenly, he heard a gasp followed by loud squeals, then the pitter-patter of quite a few pairs of feet and soon he was accompanied by a group of beautiful women.

‘Yoshiwara’s Messiah,’ said one of them in a melodic voice while brushing his chest almost casually. ‘May we be of any service?’

‘We’d be delighted to provide you with anything you need, our Saviour,’ purred another in his ear, wrapping her arms around his right one.

Surrounded closely with so many beauties, Gintoki was forced to slow down his pace. He held up his hands defensively, sighing. ‘Sorry, ladies, Gin-san is flat broke again. Lost everything at the pachinko parlour. You’ve gotta find someone else.’

All of them let out pained moans upon hearing this. ‘Master Gintoki, it can’t be! We heard rumours about you being called on by the Suzuran herself! I’m sure Boss Lady will cover the expense of a few drinks when she hears –’

Gintoki paled at the mere thought of Tsukuyo learning about this. ‘What? Her? No, no, no, no, no, Gin-san wouldn’t want to cause any trouble, you see. It’s fine, no need to drag this violent woman into this –’

‘Then, Hinowa?’

‘... It’s a deal.’

 

One hour later, Gintoki was still sitting in one of Yoshiwara’s many bars, accompanied by the cheerful women that had forced him to have a drink with them. It had not ended with one drink, however, and not even three or four. By now they were having a fifth, or maybe a sixth? In truth he had lost count.

‘One more bottle of _Dom Pérignon!’_

‘Oh, Master Gintoki, you,’ the courtesans sitting around squealed, most of them tipsy and some already completely drunk.

‘Oopsie,’ giggled the one who had just received the new bottle of alcohol from a waiter when her hand slipped as she was trying to pour Gintoki more to drink. ‘I spilt it.’

‘Shouko, you’re so clumsy,’ the rest began chuckling. ‘You’ve ruined Master Gintoki’s clothes.’

‘Aww, you’re right. Don’t worry, Master, Shouko will clean it up for you right away.’ She stuck her tongue out and eased herself between Gintoki’s legs so that she was kneeling under the table. Using a sleeve of her crimson kimono, she then proceeded to brush the wet spot on his trousers. When a small hiccup escaped her lips, she started giggling even more so than before, which caused her wobble and land with her face in Gintoki’s crotch.

Gintoki let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Oi, careful there, lady, I think you’ve had a drop too much.’

However, Shouko did not make any move that would indicate that she intended to get up and return to her seat by his side. Instead, she stared at him with her face flushed from the amount of alcohol she had drunk and pouted lightly. ‘That’s mean, Master. Am I not sexy enough for you?’ She slipped her kimono off one shoulder coquettishly.

‘Oh, Master Gintoki, tell us what your type is!’ another courtesan insisted.

The rest nodded vigorously in approval.

‘Is it E*i-chan?’

‘Anna Tsu***ya?’

‘No, it must be –’

Gintoki sighed once more, and pushed the courtesans off himself. He was beginning to get tired of all those questions and the attention he was receiving. ‘Ana Ketsuno.’

‘Ehh? The weather lady?’ a brown-eyed courtesan gasped.

‘She is so–o–o uncute!’

‘Not cute at all!’ Shouko chimed in.

The courtesans started chatting animatedly among themselves, for a moment forgetting about Gintoki. He sank in his seat, his head lolling back, and gazed at the ceiling absently. Perhaps it was high time to take his leave, although Shinpachi would probably scold him later for leaving Kagura alone for such a long time anyway. He could not comprehend the boy-wearing glasses – or was it glasses-wearing boy ...? – at times. The alien girl was a Yato, after all! A daughter of the Umibouzu to boot! She should be able to fend for herself just fine; had she not lived with thugs before meeting them? Not to mention that they were keeping a humungous dog at the Odd Jobs (which Otose, his landlady, was not happy with). However, Shinpachi’s complaining could be _really_ annoying, and with the killer headache he had, the thought of having to listen to it was nightmarish ...

Gintoki scratched his head and stood up abruptly.

‘Eh? Master Gintoki?’ asked one of the prostitutes.

‘Gin-san is leaving. Thank you for your company, ladies,’ he said simply, before winking and sauntering towards the exit.

Making his way out, he heard a low male voice say, ‘See you soon,’ as he was passing a man whose features were obscured by the shadow cast by his straw hat.

Gintoki raised his hand to acknowledge the farewell, too tired to explain that he would not be coming back any time soon, and too tired to check if he even knew the person.

They did not have to know each other.

This was Yoshiwara.

 

When outside, Gintoki glanced up at the moon again. He felt a nasty pang of guilt, one that he could not suppress no matter how hard he tried. Even if he managed to occupy himself with something else, a fraction always remained. In truth he did not like full moon nights, for the sole reason that they rekindled the feeling of helplessness he had felt when Shouyou-sensei had been taken away before his eyes. He had been unable to prevent it from happening; unable to stop their school from being burnt down to ashes.

Everything they had had, gone for evermore.

He could remember that night all too clearly, and the morning after was no better a memory.

_Gintoki ... What on earth happened here?_

The shock painted on Takasugi’s face as he and Katsura arrived at the place.

_Takasugi, calm down –_

The slight quaver in Katsura’s voice as he tried to reason with him.

 _Gintoki, don’t screw with me._ Who _did that?_

The clenching of fists and the voice choked with emotion.

_I’ll never forgive them._

All those memories, haunting him at the least appropriate of times.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts, alas to no avail. The events of that dreadful day were imprinted on his mind in such detail that they could not be forgotten in mere seconds, minutes, or even years. The feeling of having let his sensei down by failing to protect his comrades would gnaw at him endlessly. Even though he tried to dismiss it, the memories would not go away.

Gintoki scratched his right side and he began walking listlessly, trying to ignore the glare of the glowing face of the moon. Well aware of the fact that he was supposed to go home, he still let his feet carry him in a direction yet unknown to him, wandering the streets of the now slightly quieter Yoshiwara Paradise. Regardless of whether he would come home straightaway now or not, he was going to get a lecture from Shinpachi anyway.

However, the walk did little to make him feel better. Gintoki was now in a deserted street, with no one else in sight and little to no noise, and yet his head was starting to spin and he had to stop for a while to prop himself up against a nearby wall. He noticed that his body was heating up, making his clothes stick to his skin rather uncomfortably. Moreover, his vision was going slightly blurry, so he shut his eyes, hoping for it to help him recuperate faster. With his vision gone, the other senses were becoming more acute and aside from the usual noise of the distant streets, he could make out the soft sound of footsteps gradually getting closer, and then stopping. It was then that Gintoki caught a whiff of tobacco and sighed with relief, a bead of sweat rolling down his face.

In a strained voice, but trying to sound as light-hearted as per usual, he said, ‘Tsukuyo-cha–a–an, please help a sick person, hey, Tsukuyo-cha—’

He fell to the ground with a thud, his silver locks sticking to his damp forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon regaining consciousness, Gintoki initially could not remember what had happened and, to add insult to injury, he was feeling quite awful. Not only did he have a debilitating headache, but he was also suffering from dreadful nausea. When he tried to move any of his limbs, he realised that they had, for some inexplicable reason, become too heavy for his liking. It was possible to shift the appendages but only ever so slightly and it unnerved him somewhat. He opened his eyes and his gaze met a ceiling, at which he merely stared blankly. It took him a moment to realise that seeing a ceiling was amazing in itself, for he had collapsed _outside_ , after all. His memory was still rather hazy, but Gintoki was slowly beginning to recall more things.

What happened before I blacked out? he asked himself, still staring at the ceiling intently.

Since nothing came to his mind, he let his eyelids droop until his eyes were shut once again and he could see nothing but darkness. He lay idly, wondering how he had got inside ... inside ... wherever he actually was. Someone must have helped him without a doubt, because he had been unconscious. But who? Who could it have possibly been?

Only then did he notice the gentle sounds of a shamisen being played not too far away. Hearing the melody calmed him down immediately and he suddenly remembered.

Tsukuyo; he had met Tsukuyo in the streets. He had to be back at Hinowa’s quarters.

Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the music for a while. It continued without any interruption, no pauses showing hesitation, no note out of tune. The melody was sorrowful yet beautiful, as if mourning someone – perhaps Suzuran, who most likely would never reunite with her lover. Gintoki could only admire Hinowa’s mastery of the shamisen. The titles of the Sun and the finest courtesan of Yoshiwara Paradise were undoubtedly well-earned.

Gintoki tried to flex his fingers, then arms at the elbows, and it all went more smoothly than before. Apparently the numbness was beginning to pass and for that he was thankful. With some effort he managed to muster enough strength to prop himself up on his elbows. Heaving a sigh of relief, he opened his eyes lazily, still drained.

The music came to a stop and an olive eye met a pair of crimson ones.

‘Yo, Gintoki,’ drawled a familiar man with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Gintoki blinked slowly, staring blankly. ‘Takasugi? I must be having a nightmare,’ he groaned. ‘I could swear there should be a Yoshiwarian babe right here, and instead there’s just an ugly face.’

Takasugi sniggered from his position on the windowsill, putting the shamisen aside against the wall but still holding a plectrum in his right hand. ‘Shall I put an end to your nightmare, then?’ He fingered the plectrum lightly, his lip curling up into a wicked smirk before he added darkly, ‘Forever.’

‘Idiot. I just need to close my eyes and when I wake up, you’ll be gone.’

Takasugi chuckled, casting the plectrum to the floor, and hoisted his right leg onto the windowsill. Sprawled, he leaned against the wooden frame and closed his eyes. ‘Is that so ...’ His burgundy and gold kimono rustled softly as he put his right hand through the opening of the left sleeve and soon took out a kiseru and a bit of tobacco. ‘Then ...’ he said before placing the pipe between his lips and taking a puff on it. He smirked after exhaling the smoke and finished, ‘Why am I still here, Gintoki?’

Gintoki let out an exasperated sigh and plopped down onto the floor again. ‘I haven’t closed my eyes yet, dumbass.’

Takasugi simply stared at him, his lips stretched in amusement. ‘What’s stopping you?’

‘I’m still hoping you’ll turn into Ana Ketsuno if I focus on it hard enough.’

Takasugi sniggered one more time and turned to look out of the window. After a few seconds of silence, followed by the quiet sound of him blowing the smoke out, he inquired, ‘Did you see, Gintoki? The moon is almost full again.’

Gintoki snorted and rolled over onto his side. ‘What are you, still hoping to see Princess Kaguya?’

‘Maybe,’ said Takasugi, once again turning to Gintoki – who was now facing away from him – and smirking. ‘Or maybe not. Want to have a guess?’

‘I couldn’t care less,’ replied Gintoki listlessly, scratching his back.

‘That’s what I thought too.’

Of all things about Takasugi, the one that irked Gintoki the most was probably that fathoming his actions bordered on the impossible. He asked questions to which he already knew the answers, he appeared before (or behind, for that matter) people for indiscernible reasons, only to vanish into thin air soon after, his purpose entirely shrouded in mystery. More often than not, such occurrences would mean trouble, and not just for the people concerned, but on a much greater scale. Not only that, however, did Gintoki find irritating. One other thing that annoyed him was that Takasugi’s words were always laced with unaccountable smugness and a trace of ecstasy, as if he had plotted an intricate intrigue and wished to hint at it without quite elaborating.

And such was the case at the very moment. Gintoki lay still, willing Takasugi to disappear and make his life less complicated. Alas, he knew it would not happen, for he could sense his surroundings all too well for the whole situation to be a mere dream. Suddenly it crossed his mind that he had no idea what time it was, not that it mattered greatly. He had already earned a scolding from Shinpachi for being a bad role model for Kagura.

As the shock stemming from Takasugi’s unexpected presence had started to fade, Gintoki was forced to face the recurring awareness of his own sorry state. Admittedly, he had drunk some alcohol earlier; however, surely not enough to bring him so much discomfort. Some deity must have really hated him. Who knows, perhaps everything would go downhill from now on and he would become a madao in no time.

... No, it was not even an option.

Although, when he actually thought about it, he already failed to pay his rent on time.

Ah, damn it. Maybe that madao was rubbing off on him.

No, wait. He had never paid on time, so it was fine.

‘So,’ he heard the other man say. ‘What brings you here? Succumbing to the pleasures of the body, Gintoki?’ Takasugi flashed a wicked smile, which Gintoki could not see, for he was not facing him.

‘Shut up,’ Gintoki groaned. ‘That’s what I should be asking you. Has unresolved sexual tension gone to your head? Resorting to prostitutes now?’

Takasugi closed his eye, a smirk still tugging at his lips. ‘Unresolved tension?’ He puffed on his kiseru in a relaxed manner.

Gintoki rolled over again, slipping his hands under his head and sighing exasperatedly. ‘Seriously? With only one woman on board? A barbarian to that? Are you going for some weird reverse harem? No wonder you guys appear only every two years. You’re doing it wrong. Nobody wants to see that crap in Jump, they want cool and badass, like Gin-san.’

Takasugi sniggered. ‘Gintoki, you’re such a simple man,’ he drawled. He got off the windowsill leisurely, putting his pipe away, and passed Gintoki’s supine body as he sauntered over to the opposite wall. He squatted down before a low table and wrapped his fingers around a ceramic flask.

Gintoki observed him indolently. A quiet voice inside his head was telling him that he should attempt to escape from wherever he was, but at the same time he was aware of his current situation. Without knowing where he was and what might await him outside the room making anything as reckless as unplanned egress would be folly. Therefore, he decided against it – instead, he would wait for a suitable moment for that was the best plan under those circumstances.

‘Want a drink, Gintoki?’ asked Takasugi, pouring himself a cup.

‘... No way, it probably has some drug added to it. Just no friggin’ way.’

Sitting on the floor next to the table, Takasugi took a sip from his cup and sniggered. ‘Suspicious, aren’t we? Too bad, it’s the finest booze I’ve had in a while. Not quite as rare as Bacchus wine, but still hard to come by.’

Silence followed, for Gintoki merely remained silent, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Takasugi’s presence was enough to elicit uneasiness in him and he did not like it. It was difficult to read the terrorist, so predicting what could happen was nearly impossible.

He briefly remembered that it used to be much easier, back in the days when he had known just what to do to annoy Takasugi; back in the days when they had studied under Shouyou-sensei.

Groaning with irritation, he raised his torso so that he was in a sitting position and rolled his shoulders to relax the muscles. His gaze fell upon his very own wooden sword, lying merely half a foot away from his right leg. His brow furrowed lightly. ‘You didn’t take my sword.’

‘I didn’t,’ admitted Takasugi with amusement. ‘Well, there’s no need to declaw a beast whose claws are virtually dull, don’t you think?’ He sipped his alcohol again.

‘Takasugi, you bastard ...’ Gintoki said as though with disgust, glowering at him. ‘What are you planning this time?’

Takasugi’s lip curved up in a smirk and he shut his eye for a moment before casting a sidelong glance at the cup in his hand. ‘Nothing in particular. That space fighter’s sidekick suggested we stay here.’ He chuckled.

‘Space fighter?’

Takasugi turned to him and grinned wickedly, his head poised a little on one side. ‘Yes, space fighter.’ As a soft sound came from the window behind Gintoki’s back, he let out a snigger once more.

‘My, my,’ said a voice serenely, with a barely audible undertone of malice, ‘it seems I’m interrupting something.’ The newcomer thrust his head in, both hands gripping the window frame. ‘You didn’t say you’d be having a guest, Earth fighter.’

The voice sounded distantly familiar, yet Gintoki did not know who it could belong to. He looked over his shoulder slowly to catch a glimpse of the person.

‘Speak of the devil ... You’re back early,’ remarked Takasugi.

The newcomer slipped into the room soundlessly and started walking towards the two men. He was smiling in a fox-like manner, with loose strands vermillion hair framing his face and the rest worn in a long plait. That together with his distinctively Chinese-looking outfit in black colour left no room for doubt.

‘You’re Kagura’s –’

‘Ah, it’s that other samurai,’ Kamui said, sounding surprised. ‘So she’s still alive?’ He tilted his head to one side, his brilliant blue eyes now wide open. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter either way. I’m more relieved to know’ – he crouched next to Gintoki – ‘that _you_ are alive.’

Gintoki tensed lightly and felt for his sword instinctively.

However, Kagura’s elder brother simply smiled in his typical seemingly innocent way. ‘Yoshiwara is a really boring place, there’s only women and alcohol here. No wonder Boss Housen grew soft. Please make sure you don’t, samurai-san. I’m looking forward to fighting you.’ He stared at Gintoki with an expression so cheerful that he could not help thinking it had to be fake. The resemblance between the boy and Kagura was so striking that it made him feel uneasy, as he knew how bloodthirsty Kamui was – and even though Kagura was wont to behave more violently than most people when she was angry, he did not believe they were that much alike. Undoubtedly, both were obnoxious (although in different ways) and both appeared to be obliviously stupid at times, but Kagura was a good child – and he would not say the same thing about her brother. As such, seeing so much physical similarity between the two was somewhat disturbing ...

Suddenly, a low rumble broke the silence. ‘My, oh, my, I think it’s time for a little snack,’ Kamui said and promptly stood up. ‘I guess fighting you right now wouldn’t be much fun anyway, since you aren’t looking completely well.’ He directed his steps to a door, raising his hand as a goodbye in a relaxed manner. ‘Until later, samurai-san.’

Gintoki could hardly understand the absurdity of the situation, but if he had to choose between sitting with a terrorist and sitting with a terrorist and a Yato, he would rather choose just Takasugi, so he was thankful for such a development.

Kamui neared the door and just when he was about to go out, he turned back to the pair, as if remembering something. To Gintoki’s astonishment, his serene expression was now replaced by a serious one, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ‘He is to stay alive,’ the redhead stated coolly. ‘He’s my prey and I won’t let anyone else touch him, even if it’s you. If you do’ – a bright smile graced his face quite unexpectedly – ‘I’ll kill you.’ Without waiting for Takasugi’s response, he left, sliding the door shut behind himself.

Gintoki stared at the closed door for a while longer, before finally facing Takasugi again and saying in a bored voice: ‘Some interesting company you’ve got.’

He received a smirk as his only reply to the statement, and Takasugi took another sip of his drink. Once again, silence followed, and with time Takasugi’s smile dissipated.

‘So, this is the Night King’s quarters, eh?’ Gintoki broke the quiet for a second time.

Takasugi did not answer. Instead, he simply put his cup down on the low table and looked at him intently. He held Gintoki’s gaze, for once any trace of amusement absent in his stare. ‘Say, Gintoki,’ he began, his voice growing ever so slightly darker. ‘What do you see when you look at a full moon?’

At first, he did not reply to the question. It was unexpected and he did not know what to say. He had no reason to tell him the truth. He doubted Takasugi really cared.

‘Nothing,’ he replied blankly. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

The bustle of the street had already died down completely and the only sound was that of the gentle breeze.

Takasugi’s eye narrowed ominously. He stood up and walked over to where Gintoki was, only to fall to his knees and clench the front of his clothes so forcefully that one could think he wanted to rip them apart. ‘You ...’ he hissed as he pulled on the material, his voice brimming with an emotion which Gintoki was unable to name. He would have thought it to be hatred, but for some inexplicable reason, he could not, for he felt it would not describe it entirely. ‘How can you live in such a carefree way?’ His left hand moved to Gintoki’s throat, applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure. ‘Both you and Zura, you’re but fools who don’t deserve to be called samurai any more.’

Gintoki was beginning to feel suffocated because of the vice-like grip and felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. Takasugi’s face was a mere few inches away from his and it was causing him even greater discomfort. As the wicked smirk adorned Takasugi’s features once again, Gintoki had a sudden premonition that something bad would happen and he tried to reach for his sword, only to feel metal against his shoulder. Takasugi must have drawn his blade without him noticing it – which was not surprising, considering he was focusing on maintaining his breathing.

‘You know what Zura said?’ Takasugi sniggered. ‘He said you’re the one who suffers most. He’s always been a prissy little know-all, but that’s easily the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard him say.’ His voice was becoming more and more ecstatic with every passing second and he grinned menacingly. ‘Zura hates me and always has, so how could he know how I feel?’ Takasugi’s left hand moved up, tilting Gintoki’s head upwards with unnecessary force. ‘Both you and Zura have abandoned Sensei.’

Gintoki relished the feeling of being able to inhale as much air as usually once again. His neck still ached painfully and it was bound to be marred by visible marks later on. However, it was too minute a problem to worry about, with the situation he was in.

‘If it had been me by his side ... None of it would have ...’ Suddenly, a note of hardly constrained anger became distinctly audible in Takasugi’s voice and he gritted his teeth, glowering at Gintoki.

‘But,’ Takasugi went on, his eye widening in a way that made him look like he had lost his senses, ‘I’ll make sure you’ll never forget about Sensei or me again, Gintoki.’

And with that, before Gintoki could react in any way, he crashed their lips together violently. In no way was he gentle, forcing open Gintoki’s lips with his tongue, his hold on the chin never wavering. He felt the strong taste of tobacco overwhelm him as Takasugi violated his mouth relentlessly. Despite himself, he shivered lightly as he accidentally brushed Takasugi’s tongue with his own, and goosebumps formed on his skin.

Takasugi broke the kiss abruptly, pulling away from his mouth and moving to his ear. ‘I wanted to maim you,’ he breathed into it heatedly, ‘but you seem to be enjoying it, Gintoki.’ He licked the inside of the ear perversely, his hand easing down to Gintoki’s collar and undoing the top of the black shirt.

‘Enjoying?’ scoffed Gintoki, albeit half-heartedly, because he was short of breath. ‘Keep dreaming. Even my landlady would do a better job of turning me on.’

Unperturbed by the remark, Takasugi merely chuckled and trailed his jawline with his hot tongue before going back to Gintoki’s lips and then sucking the lower one harshly. Having the sensitive flesh teased by those teeth was nothing like what he had experienced in his life. When he fantasised, he was always the one on top – with _women,_ too – and the one doing the teasing. He never actually considered it being the other way round. He was certain that he was no masochist; quite the contrary, he was a self-proclaimed sadist. However, he was beginning to think that perhaps being teased was not bad at all ...

No – wait, wait, wait! What on earth was he doing, with Takasugi to boot!

In a frantic attempt to get away, he pulled back, toppling and falling to the floor, back to his former supine position. He immediately realised that it had been a horrible choice, as Takasugi was now hovering over him with a smug smirk.

‘And here I thought you had said something about killing me, Gintoki,’ said Takasugi, pushing Gintoki’s bokken away with his foot. Shortly afterwards, he discarded his own sword, letting it fall to the tatami-covered floor with a distinct plonk. ‘But you don’t have what it takes to kill “an old comrade”, do you?’ he sniggered. ‘Or is it that you don’t really _want_ to?’

Gintoki let out a half-hearted laugh. ‘Get real, bastard. I hate you just as much as Zura does. You piss me off.’

Takasugi looked at him with clear amusement, a chuckle escaping his lips. His right hand, now free, wandered lower, and Gintoki followed it with his eyes. Doing so, he could not help staring at Takasugi’s sinewy torso, which was hardly obscured by his burgundy butterfly-patterned kimono. For his short height and curious taste in clothes (butterflies were not exactly Gintoki’s idea of manliness), Takasugi was surprisingly muscular, in an attractive way.

Wait, wait, wait –! He had not just thought _attractive_ , had he?

Takasugi’s hand stopped at his nether regions and touched him through his black trousers, the layer of material lessening the sensation, but not entirely so. Gintoki inhaled deeply through his nose and felt his eyelids droop lightly as he observed Takasugi’s hand’s movements. He brought his own hand up to Takasugi’s kimono and grasped the flowing material tightly, his eyebrows almost knitting together as he furrowed his brow. ‘Takasugi ...’ he hissed from between his gritted teeth. ‘You bastard ...’

‘Hey, Gintoki, you’re rather eager for someone who supposedly hates me,’ Takasugi drawled with a pleased expression and unbuckled Gintoki’s thin black belt, immediately afterwards proceeding to remove the grey obi. ‘Are you sure you don’t like me?’ he sniggered.

Exceptionally irritated, Gintoki pulled him down by the kimono and switched their positions just before their bodies crashed, straddling Takasugi and pushing him to the floor.

‘Oh ...?’ Takasugi stared at him with a smirk. ‘I didn’t expect that from you, Gintoki.’ Even underneath Gintoki, he looked and sounded completely confident and not in the least perturbed. ‘That was certainly bold, however –’

Gintoki noticed an eerie glint in Takasugi’s eye and saw the corner of his mouth twitch lightly.

‘– a tamed little kitten like you can’t win against a real beast.’ Without any warning, Takasugi pulled him into another rough kiss. Their heated breaths mingled and Gintoki found himself reacting in ways that repulsed him, yet he could not help being consumed by an unabated fire. He hated Takasugi, that much had not changed, but now it was _his body_ that was behaving as if it were his sworn enemy, betraying him in the cruellest way possible.

Amidst the moment of weird passion, he felt Takasugi reverse their positions to the previous state and he did not put up as much resistance as he should have. With both belts undone, the front of his kimono parted, sliding to the ground with a soft rustle, and Takasugi wasted no time in using this opportunity to open his black shirt. As he pulled it apart, he rested his hands against Gintoki’s bare muscular torso and glided them over it leisurely, teasingly, taking his time. His touch was electrifying in a way, although Gintoki would never say it out loud. He could feel a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead; he had not known he was feeling that hot until the very moment. His chest heaved as he panted quietly, grasping one of Takasugi’s hands and pulling it down to the hem of his trousers.

Takasugi smirked. Gintoki’s unspoken message was clear, and he complied with the other’s wishes partially, not removing his clothes just yet, but granting him the privilege of much demanded physical contact.

‘Oi, cut the crap already,’ Gintoki groaned with a grimace.

Takasugi sniggered but acted according to his wishes, unfastening the garment and lowering his head with a smug expression. His eyes did not leave Gintoki’s even as he began his sinful ministrations, eliciting an involuntary gasp from the silver-haired man.

Gintoki tensed slightly at the alien yet immensely pleasurable feeling. It was more intense than he had expected, having never been pleased in this way. It was not that he had not had an opportunity, quite the opposite. He had simply never been particularly interested in any of those women, for instance the stalker ninja girl. He was sure she would be more than enthusiastic about it, but _he_ was not. And the one woman he found attractive, Ana Ketsuno, was not interested in him like that, _not_ _yet_ , at least. But, of all people, why Takasugi ...?

‘You seem awfully tense, Gintoki,’ Takasugi said, ceasing his actions for a moment to flash a smug smile.

‘Shut up.’

Deep inside he felt disappointed with himself for succumbing to the temptation, but the guilty pleasure was too good to resist. That sinful hot mouth was sending shivers down his spine and making him crave more. It did not matter that it was someone he hated any more. He needed his release and he needed it badly. His breathing was becoming somewhat heavier and more laboured and he let a single strained moan escape his lips. ‘A – Ah, damn –’

Like a puppet handled by Takasugi most skilfully, with one last pull of the strings he could not take any more and his brain shut down, overcome with pleasure.

Takasugi pulled back slowly with a satisfied face and spat out the contents of his mouth, wiping his lips with a piece of white material that strangely resembled –

‘Not my sleeve, not my sleeve, damn it!’ groaned Gintoki and slapped his face in disbelief.

‘Not like you wore the right one anyway,’ Takasugi chuckled, a wicked glint in his olive eye.

While trying to steady his breathing, Gintoki had his boots slid off his feet slowly by Takasugi. As soon as they were off, they were tossed away without hesitation, landing on the floor randomly. He did not protest when his trousers and boxers were removed as well, although he was beginning to question his sanity yet again. Why on earth was he letting Takasugi do as he pleased? He should have shoved him off and escaped ... although it would have been tricky, with the Kiheitai and a Harusame squad occupying the place ... But he had already been in a number of difficult situations and managed to get out of them.

Then, why?

What was it about Takasugi that he found so enticing ...?

Somewhere along the way, Takasugi’s rokushaku fundoshi was discarded as well.

‘Hey, Gintoki ...’ breathed Takasugi hotly into his ear, his voice laced with ecstasy. ‘Don’t you ever forget this.’

Without giving him any chance to protest – not that he would be able to any more – Takasugi made a move and their bodies connected in a way that only lovers’ bodies should; and yet, Gintoki still harboured no warm feelings towards Takasugi. With sheer lust driving them, they were as close as Gintoki had never expected them to be. He was certain that it was wrong, but neither of them seemed to be thinking rationally; all that mattered was the here and now, heeding their desires despite them being sinful in every way possible.

It felt awkward and alien, not to mention hardly comfortable, for them to be joined in this way. Gintoki hissed and cursed under his breath, an action which made Takasugi chuckle, only this time it was different – as though somewhat forced and half-hearted. Takasugi firmly held Gintoki’s legs just below the knees as he gazed at him with smouldering eyes.

Then, he moved.

‘Shit –’ Gintoki groaned. ‘Bastard ...’

Takasugi flashed a wicked grin in response and repeated the action again and again.

To Gintoki the sensation was far from pleasurable for quite a while and he merely gritted his teeth, his eyes half-lidded and brow furrowed as he breathed unevenly, doing as much as he could not to let Takasugi see his discomfort. He knew Takasugi would just rejoice in that and he was not about to give him that satisfaction. He still had pride. He bore it, staring at Takasugi’s sickeningly ecstatic expression all the while until he could not stand it any more and screwed his eyes shut. That was when Takasugi suddenly leaned in and sunk his teeth into the skin just over his clavicle, sucking on it harshly; that was when _it_ happened.

‘Ah, fuck –’ he cursed, overcome by a sensation completely different from the previous one, one far more pleasurable.

Takasugi sniggered against his skin, and then gave the spot a long lick, before being pulled into a feverish kiss by none other than Gintoki himself. Gintoki was not about to let everything go simply as Takasugi wanted it to; he would  have it has way as well. With his fingers entangled in Takasugi’s hair, he engaged in a kiss so heated that soon enough saliva was threatening to dribble out of the corner of his mouth.

For once, it did not bother him in the least.

When the kiss was broken, Takasugi looked at him with his eye half-shut and the bandage around his head wrapped somewhat more loosely, and panted with a chuckle, ‘Gintoki ...’ – the movements of the lower half of his body became more hurried and forceful while his left hand positioned itself around Gintoki’s throat once again – ‘I’m still going to kill you one day.’

‘Shut up, I already know that,’ Gintoki rasped.

In the light of the current situation, the grip around his throat, although firm, did not feel nearly as menacing as before and he dismissed it. His body was demanding more attention than it was receiving, and seeing that Takasugi was not going to bother to do anything about his arousal, he moved his hand lower to deal with it himself. Breathing heavily as he did so, he found himself close to release for a second time that night, and even though what they were doing was wrong in more ways than one, the sensation felt just right. Takasugi’s eye followed the movements of Gintoki’s hand with lustful fascination and it did not take long for both of them to reach their limit.

As Gintoki’s head lolled back uncontrollably, Takasugi’s hung down, his face partially obscured by his black hair but clearly displaying pleasure nonetheless. Both men panted heavily, but otherwise remained silent, for saying anything was not necessary. They were not together, nor did they care about each other, so neither was interested in knowing how the other was feeling or what he was thinking.

There was nothing between them but the past so distant that neither thought back to it any more.


	3. Epilogue

‘My, my, I didn’t think you’d let him leave just like this,’ said Kamui, slipping through a window to the balcony where Takasugi was standing. ‘Have you gone soft as well, Earth fighter?’

Takasugi chuckled softly. ‘Aren’t you the one who told me not to kill him?’

The vermillion-haired boy smiled at him, his brilliant blue orbs wide open. ‘Ah, that’s true. But I thought you weren’t one to listen to others, much less to Amanto,’ he replied in a serene voice, cocking his head on one side. ‘Was I wrong?’

Takasugi took a puff on his pipe, leaning against the balcony railing and gazing at the spot where Gintoki had disappeared from view a while earlier. Having exhaled the smoke leisurely, he flashed a smug smile and turned to face the Harusame captain. ‘Not in the least. I’ve got my reasons for letting him live,’ said Takasugi. ‘It’s more entertaining this way.’

Kamui’s eyes brightened. ‘So, you’re like Abuto?’ he asked with a smile. ‘A sucker for Mega Drive, I mean.’

‘Mega Drive?’ Takasugi sniggered. ‘I’m more of a Famicom person. What brought this on?’

‘Ah, never mind,’ the Yato boy dismissed the question and hoisted his legs over the railing so that he was sitting on it. ‘So, when is the big day?’ he asked while kicking his feet in a relaxed manner and gazing into the distance.

Takasugi’s lips stretched in a smirk. ‘Soon.’

_Once the moon is full again._

**Author's Note:**

> * andon are lamps consisting of paper stretched over a frame of bamboo, wood or metal. They became popular in the Edo Period. For more information look up 'Traditional lighting equipment of Japan' on Wikipedia.
> 
> ** Tsukiji is a Tokyo district known for its fish market. This was a sex joke in one of the recent Gintama chapters where Gintoki compared himself to 'a cold and lifeless tuna on sale' for failing to have sex, because it went nothing like he had expected. I hope this is explanatory enough.
> 
> On another note, 'E*i-chan' and 'Anna Tsu***ya' stand for Ebi-chan (Yuri Ebihara) and Anna Tsuchiya respectively, if you were interested in knowing that.


End file.
